


Megatron X Reader – Blood Song

by writeyouin



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Halloween, M/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 00:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16465361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyouin/pseuds/writeyouin
Summary: Request: If you are open now or when ever can you please do IDW Megatron as a vampire with the thirst for the human liaisons blood





	Megatron X Reader – Blood Song

‘ _How has it come to this?_ ’ Megatron wondered as he stood silently over your sleeping form, scanning your veins and arteries with vampiric optics. You hadn’t asked Megatron to visit before you fell asleep, but neither had you rescinded your invitation from the last time he’d visited; from the hungry way Megatron stared at you now, that could be your very last mistake.

The only thing holding him back from tearing you apart and gorging himself on your precious blood there and then was his humanity, so to speak. He wanted to be a good bot, especially after seeing and hearing old stories of monstrous vampires who refused to control their blood-lust. He remembered the days not so long ago when he was the very monster he deplored now; although he didn’t want to become that again, it would only take one bite for him to revert to his old heathen ways and he knew it as he teetered on the edge of indecision.

He didn’t really have to ask himself how he’d gotten into such a mess because he remembered perfectly, yet reliving the memory was the only thing currently prolonging your life as you slept, oblivious to the world outside your dreams; so, Megatron let himself remember, if only to spare you a horrible death for just a little while longer.

As a vampire and ex war-lord, Megatron was hated by most of the crew, but as co-captain of the ship, the bots around him were powerless to do anything about it. While not ideal, life was fairly normal aboard the ship. Megatron would go about his duties, working mostly during the night, being at only half-power during the day, and whenever he needed to feed, there was a storage of blood from various organic creatures that had been obtained in humane ways, or so he’d been told by Optimus before leaving Cybertron. Whenever the stocks started running low, the Lost Light would pull in to a nearby planet, requesting a blood drive to aid other planets. Megatron used to be bothered by the lie, but he eventually dropped the matter, considering the alternatives were either murder or starvation.

Everything was going well, in fact for the first time in his life, Megatron was happy. That is, until you came along. The ship was informed that a new crew-member would be coming aboard the ship to act as a Liaison to Earth, monitoring the dangerous occult leader Megatron, in case he made any attempts to go back to his evil ways. Megatron was fine with that, knowing full well that there would be nothing to report, until he saw you. He’d assumed at first that it would be just another Cybertronian, but a human… an organic, so full of fresh, sweet blood that his old preserves couldn’t even compare to; it was insufferable. It should have been obvious from the start that humans wouldn’t trust another Cybertronian to report to them, but Megatron never imagined they’d be so foolish or cruel to send one of their own into the lion’s den.

He often wondered how long it would be before he reverted to his old ways, but upon meeting you, it became clear that he would never do anything to hurt you. You were so calm around him, but more than that, you were kind, providing the friendship and conversation he desperately craved. It wasn’t in your job description to be a friend to Megatron, yet you were anyway, claiming that everyone deserved a second chance; Megatron wasn’t so sure about that, he’d had millions of chances, yet he found he liked that you were willing to overlook that as if it were an inconsequential matter.

So, Megatron stuck to his blood preserves, even though your precious scent drove his internal mechanics crazy. However, the further the ship travelled into deep space on its quest, the fewer planets it found that inhabited organic life. Slowly but surely, the blood stores started running low, and Megatron knew it would only be a matter of time before he lost control. After that, he made sure he drank only enough the save himself from starvation, but never enough to feel fully satisfied.

Despite his best efforts, Megatron couldn’t keep up the act of good behaviour when he was constantly on the brink of delirium. Slowly, he shut you out, seeing you only when he had to for meetings, and making sure they were short-lived at best. He began to miss your company, but kept telling himself it was worth it, if only to keep a bright star like yourself shining in the universe.

You started to miss Megatron during his stints in isolation. Then, when he started coming out again, his sentences were barbed, his posture aggressive, his glare like that of a predator and you knew something was wrong.

Without talking to Megatron about the problem at hand, you ran straight to the ship’s medic, Ratchet, hoping he would have something to say on the matter.

“Ratchet…” You uttered breathlessly, “Something’s… Something’s wrong with Megatron.”

Ratchet turned his head slightly away from his work, the only affirmation he was listening, before grunting noncommittally.

“Well?” You asked incredulously.

“Well what?”

“Well, aren’t you going to do something?”

“There’s nothing to do.”

You bit back anger, “So you do know what’s wrong with him then!”

Ratchet didn’t respond, never even glancing your way as he focussed on his datapad.

“Ratchet! He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, he’s always angry, he looks like a man half starv- Oh…” You’d never seen a starved vampire before, let alone a Cybertronian one, yet the revelation hit all the same, and finally Ratchet was forced to confront you as you visibly paled, leaning against the nearest wall for support in case you fainted.

“Don’t look so upset about it. Taking a vampire this far into space was insane, the entire crew knew it and so did Optimus.”

“THEN WHY’D HE SEND HIM OUT HERE?!”

Ratchet sighed, his old mechanics groaned with the action, “Don’t question a prime, (Y/N). I’m sure Optimus had a good reason for doing what he did.”

“By sentencing Megatron to death?”

“Megatron was already sentenced to death,” Ratchet responded sternly. “If anything, Prime spared-”

“No, Optimus may have delayed a quick death, but a quick death is better than starvation…. Isn’t there anything we could do? I mean… There’s gotta be a nearby planet or something. What about Brainstorm or Perceptor? Can’t the make synthetic blood or something? What about-”

“(Y/N),” Ratchet held your shoulder comfortingly, hating the clear signs of denial, written all over you. “We’ve looked into all that. Synthetic blood just won’t work.”

“But…”

“But nothing.”

“But then… what about a blood replicator? Can you clone something, if it was real?”

Ratchet’s optics searched the air as if he was looking for an invisible equation and you held a flicker of hope momentarily, but it was quickly wiped out by Ratchet’s solemn head-shake.

“Why not?” You whined more than asked.

“Because something like that would take time and there’s no more blood to replicate… it would be too late.”

You bit your lip in a way Ratchet didn’t like at all; it was the look of a bad idea. “Unless…” You started.

“Unless?” Ratchet asked warily.

“Unless there was more blood that just happened to be aboard… say you just happened to find some that you accidentally overlooked… that might come from-”

“NO! Absolutely not. That is a preposterous idea.”

“Come on Ratchet,” You pleaded. “It’s not like I need all of my blood, just enough to know that it will regenerate. Please… For Megatron.”

From the disgusted look you received, you knew there was no way Ratchet was going to help, so you dropped the subject, until you were on your own and able to extricate two bags of blood from yourself. One for Megatron’s immediate use, and another in the hopes that the big brains of the ship would be able to replicate it so Megatron would never be in danger of starvation again. You left the blood in Ratchet’s office, knowing full well that he would be disappointed in you, but also that he wouldn’t let your sacrifice go to waste.

* * *

 

Megatron was too desperate to question where the blood Ratchet “ _found_ ” came from; had he known, he might have chosen death over drinking it down in one gulp, not wasting a single drop. Ratchet left him hastily before any questions followed, but that was of no consequence to Megatron, for he was no longer on death’s doorstep; a vampire as ancient as he could go much longer than most with insufficient fuel levels.

As a matter of fact, a vampire as old as he, could do a lot more than a fledgling. The worst of his abilities, which he once thought a gift, was seeing the sources that blood came from once he’d consumed it. He never expected to see anything on consuming the delectable red liquid, but shortly afterwards, his optics saw halfway across the ship, highlighting your sleeping form in bright red. His optics widened in shock, but before he really knew what was going on, he was hovering over you, ready to tear you apart.

It would only be one bite really, and he promised himself he would make it quick, so you didn’t suffer. He could snap your neck, then feed off you, but somehow, the idea of your head lolling ungracefully was too much from Megatron to bear. No, if he was going to kill you, he would leave your body as intact as he could. You murmured in your sleep, rolling over and exposing that beautiful neck.

Megatron lowered himself slowly towards you, ready to make the bite, almost losing himself to the way your blood sang to him. Yet, as he opened his mouth to do so, he found himself kissing your neck instead. He ran his dentae over the soft flesh just hard enough to leave a mark without breaking the skin and moved away from you once more; you would now know he’d been there and what he’d almost done. It was a payment for your gift to him, a warning to you that you should be wary of him now. If you hand any sense at all, you would report him to Rodimus or Ultra Magnus, so he’d have to be locked up until the next planet, if he survived that long… If not, he’d have no choice but to return and kill you; the Proverbial ball was in your court.

“Thank you for the gift,” Megatron whispered before leaving your room for hopefully the last time.


End file.
